You know what a huge, colossal bummer of a downer Cathedral’s ‘Reaching Happiness, Touching Pain’ is? I mean, that is some seriously heavy misery, right? Well gruesome ‘Primitive Doom Metal’ twosome Atomic Cries are that magnitude of crushing downbeat misery, but with a thick, caked-on crust of utterly indelible obscure filth replacing the flutes and what-have-you. We’re talking Saint Vitus ‘Shooting Gallery’ depths of doom-filled despair here kiddiwinks.
Now, if you cast your mind back to my review of their debut release For Those Who Came Before Us, back in July 2012, you may well remember that the pair of Neanderthals behind this sucking audio-mire of a project are Andy Lippoldt, of Persistence Of Mourning and The Gorgon Head Studios, and our own, our very own Saúl Do Caixão – true perverts of sound the both of ’em – with Do Caixão taking care of the fuzz-drenched guitar miasma and the mournfully morbid crooning whilst Lippoldt mans the caveman drums, buzzing organ and the ‘more-sensed-than-heard’ deeply thrumming bass.
On this here vinyl debut for Finland’s ever-reliably splendid Svart Records there is no change in Atomic Cries modus operandi, no major departure or crazy progression, just a continuation and refinement of the morbidly obscure ‘Primitive Doom Metal’ of their first recording, and a-men to that – Atomic Cries does what Atomic Cries does and no-one else can really say the same.
A-Side, ‘False Prophecies’ is a lumbering slothful beast, driven by Lippoldt’s almost metronomically skeletal percussion and Do Caixão’s mournful baritone croon, rising above the soupy morass of fuzz, muck and haunting lead guitar that makes up the body of things, and B-Side, ‘The Atheist’ materializes onto this plane of existence with a morbid wall of descending guitar harmonies that puts me greatly in mind of the previously-mentioned Saint Vitus classic ‘Shooting Gallery’ before clanking bass ushers in a central riff that sounds like a heavily medicated and molasses-drenched Celtic Frost. The track ends with an ominous distant organ playing the descending pattern from the opening part and faint acoustic guitar, fading into nothingness.
Ultar-morbid, ultra-dark, ultra-obscure, this is one for all you Abysmal Grief, Death SS and Paul Chain fanatics out there. Rise from your dust-filled coffins and go get a copy before the sun comes up.
Scribed by: Paul Robertson